


Moves likes Jagger

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Dancing, F/M, Fun, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 day OTP Challenge : Day 20</p><p>20. Dancing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moves likes Jagger

Senior Prom.

Truth be told, Stiles never thought he would see that day.

With all the supernatural shit flocking to Beacon Hills like monstrous flies attracted to a motherfucking light bulb, and with him sticking to his human status, Stiles was convinced that he would become some mythological creature's chew toy before that milestones.

And yet, here he is, fixing his hair the best he can, and planning his Senior prom.

Sure he's going alone with his pack of friends - ha, never gets old - but it's still going to be a full night of awesomeness and no one is going to end up in the E.R. or get attacked by a psycho werewolf.

You know, the usual fucked up things that seem to happen at the end of the year in Beacon Hills.

Just a peaceful night of bad music and disgusting punch, and silly dancing with his friends before they all get scattered around the country to become -- what's the saying? Valuable, adult members of society?

Yeah.

Stiles gives himself a thumb up.

"Time to Carpe the fuck of the Diem, Stilinski."

\---

Derek has no fucking idea how he got wrapped in this shitty situation, and yet here he is.

Correction : he knows exactly why he's here, and that's because he wasn't able to resist the frightening combo of Lydia and Scott's puppy eyes.

"Come on Derek," he mutters, imitating Scott's plead, "it's our Senior prom, and God knows your Senior year sucked, come with uuus."

"That's not a good impression and you know it."

Derek nearly hits the wall in his shock - how the Hell did Stiles, of all people, manage to sneak up on him? Derek is so attuned to his smell and his heartbeat that he could spot him from the other side of town.

"Good to see you ... suited up?" Stiles continues, pointing two fingers at the suit Peter lent him, and yes, it doesn't exactly fit, but it only makes Derek smile a little.

"You look not so awful yourself," he simply replies, and enjoys the blush spreading on Stiles' face before he clears his throat.

"Come on, old man," he says with a wink and throwing his head back (his hair bounces a little, it's mesmerizing), "let's show them how we dance."

"You don't dance, Stiles."

"Oh, I have _moves_ , Hale," Stiles retorts, shaking his body for good measure.

"For the sake of all that is holy ...," Derek whispers, but he can't keep himself from smiling, even if he tried.

\---

He doesn't have a move to save his life, but that doesn't mean that Stiles can't enjoy the dance floor like he does.

The best part ? Having the rest of the pack letting loose and dancing just like him nearby.

Yes, even Derek.

The big lump has even worst moves than him, and that's saying something. Somehow, it adds a layer of cute to a package that is already too good for everyone's sake.

It all goes down the drain when the fucking DJ - God, if this Greenberg, Stiles is going to make sure that he doesn't see 19 - puts on a slow dance.

Okay then, time to hit the punch bowl.

Derek follows him out of the dance floor, looking a little bit lost - Stiles does NOT make a lost puppy joke in the depths of his mind, thank you very much - and Stiles pours him a glass.

"To a prom that didn't end up in a bloodbath," he says as he clinks their cups, and Derek smiles as he takes a sip before making the awesomest grimace Stiles has ever seen. "Oh man your face," he snickers, and Derek only bumps their shoulders in retaliation, which Stiles counts as a major leap in their friendship.

"Come on," Derek says, a disgusted look on his face as he puts his cup back on the table and putting Stiles' down too.

"Come on where?"

"Come on and let's make sure that you have the prom you deserve," Derek says, holding up his hand expectantly.

"You gotta be kidding," Stiles whispers, covering his mouth with his hand.

Derek wiggles his fingers. "Come on Stiles, just a little twirl."

"You're serious."

"Dead serious."

"Seems pretty live to me."

That earns him an eyeroll. "Tell me, to my face, that you don't want to dance with me, cheek to cheek."

"Oh I do," Stiles says, snatching Derek's hand and pulling him closer to him surprisingly easily. "Just not sure I am not dreaming right now."

Derek holds up his free hand. "How many fingers, Stiles?"

That makes the younger man smile, and he does count the fingers - five, all good - before putting that hand on his shoulder.

"Cause you're leading?" Derek asks with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, pup," Stiles says with a smirk, wrapping an arm around Derek's waist, "I always lead."

\---

From the other side of the dance floor, Scott and Kira sniff around before turning their heads, in perfect synchronicity, towards the two men dancing together, not exactly pressed against each other.

Dancing, and being in perfect balance.

"Best. Prom. Ever," Scott says with a proud smile and a flash of his red eyes.


End file.
